God is in the Details
by Gemini Solitudo
Summary: SPOILERS for Law Ending. Flynn's life flashes before his eyes. Flynn/Isabeau. Frottage, fluff.
1. Page 1

SPOILERS for Law Ending. Please review, but refrain from spoilers for other endings. This is a fan fiction that came to my head for me, since I stumbled into the Law ending in my Cycle 1.

This is meant to be read as a one-shot (i.e. ideally in one sitting), however I have decided to chop it up to more digestible sizes. So think of the cut-off points as 'pages' more like, as opposed to 'chapters.'

Summary: Flynn's life flashes before his eyes. Flynn/Isabeau. Mild non-con, frottage. Possibly soaked in sappy fluff.

**God is in the Details**

Flynn has heard before that your entire life flashes before you eyes before you die. He had not believed it. There simply wasn't enough _time_ for that. The entire thing was illogical: whoever actually could say they have seen these flashes by default could not have retold the story— so who was it who told him again?

"And we are no exception. We, too, have brushed against Filth and been spattered with their blood."

_Yet._

He would die with his last expression as a wry smirk. It would seem he was wrong, for a tsunami of memories drowned out Merkabah's last words.

* * *

He was **six** years old. He liked stories. Grandmother had the best stories but there were not many young boys who liked to spend time on the floor in front of their grandmother's chair, listening to stories. He liked the fairy-stories best though, stories of heroic samurai, and the founding of the Eastern Kingdom of Mikado by the brave King Aquila. Brave King Aquila who could kill with sword and _magic_.

Young Flynn often wondered if there was a _Western_ Kingdom of Mikado. Or northern or southern. He sometimes wondered what laid even farther than Kiccigiorgi from the capital. No one thought of that, except Issachar. Issachar, young and energetic and strong.

One day while Flynn was out helping his father with some fieldwork, Issachar came to him and demanded him to play with him and the other children. He was **eight or nine**. That didn't work out all the time, since Flynn was not so good with the ball games the other children played. The other children didn't tease him too much about it, but they didn't make an effort to include him either.

Issachar was different. He came and told Flynn to play with them more often. More importantly, he liked King Aquila, and admitted to wondering what laid beyond their knowledge of borders. Issachar was charismatic too, especially with the other children. He was like an older brother to all of them, but Flynn was his best friend. Flynn didn't know why either, but he was glad of it.

He was **twelve** years old when he first had a crush on a girl named Annabelle. Annabelle came from Yukasaka, a village far away. She came with her family, who were traders, and was a sickly girl, but Flynn felt attracted to her immediately. In that week the travelling trader troupe visited, Flynn was sent with around fifty Macca to buy the necessary spices for his mother. Instead, he spent most of it buying stuff for Annabelle; Annabelle, who loved stories as much as him. He didn't remember what he bought, only that he was happy to spend it for her. In return, Annabelle gave him the white ribbon in her hair and a kiss on the cheek with the promise she would not forget him. She left at the end of the week, and he never saw her again. His mother gave him a stern beating for the little spices he ended up remembering to buy, but kissed her boy on the forehead a day later to remind him she loved him. She did not apologize for the beating; mother was stern and true, but she was kind and loving as well.

**He was fourteen** years old when the travelling traders came again. Annabelle did not come, but her parents gave Flynn a book on fairy stories. They had told him that Annabelle was too sick to come that year (_Ah, perhaps she had died_.) If so, then Annabelle would have given him her most precious possession; and a valuable skill. In a piece of parchment, which were rare and expensive, she had written down how to read the mystic script. He started learning to read. Precious few books ever reached Kiccigiorgi, but of what founding legends he could get his hands on, he read.

Before he was quite aware of it, he turned **eighteen**.

—


	2. Page 2

Flynn vaguely wondered if anyone who died at sixty could claim that as much as happened to them as it did for him at eighteen. He smirked: at least he could say entering Tokyo was not an… everyday occurrence. The memories of this year since he turned eighteen unfurled in snippets, with more vivid solidity in their freshness.

He was napping at Lake Mikado, after a long day's walk to the castle. Issachar was _way _too excited for the ceremony…

He had strange dreams… (_premonitions, in hindsight, how weird_), of Jonathan and Walter.

The first time he saw Isabeau, he felt dazed. He had never saw such a gallant woman. He somehow kept his voice calm and cordial when he introduced himself.

Feeling the cold chill down his spine when he first entered Naraku, and realized how unforgiving his duties as a samurai were. He felt the same chill when he saw Navarre, certainly a bigot, but undeserving of the punishment of being deprived of his mind. Flynn had shuddered then at the thought: the mind was his greatest asset. Navarre spewed the doubts he felt: did he want to be a samurai? The duty was simply thrusted upon him… and the dangers so very real…

Meeting Issachar at Lake Mikado, seeing how dejected and unfamiliar his best friend was in two short days. Meeting him again at Kiccigiorgi, and having to end his best friend's life with his own hands, at Issachar's own request. And the request that Flynn became a great samurai… for the both of them. Flynn had cried then, as his friend crumbled in his arms. He cried for Issachar. He cried because he had killed demons in the forest, and knew that he had very likely murdered his own kin and ken. They all crumbled, as demons do.

_(Isabeau did not crumble.)_

He became even more withdrawn after that. As the four fresh samurais explored Tokyo he became closer to them, but kept them at a distance; his quiet nature growing quieter still. He observed them. Walter was a brash warrior, driven by his formidable force of will. Jonathan was a polite and good-hearted fellow. Yet he was no less determined than Walter, driven by duty for their kingdom.

Isabeau was harder for Flynn to come to know. This was perhaps simply because of the gender barrier, and the unfortunate incident where they 'spied' on her at the rooftops. Yet what Flynn saw and knew, he liked. She was good-hearted and brave, if a little reserved. Issachar had once told him that men grew less attracted to the same woman as time passed. But if anything, time passed with Isabeau only sharpened his respect and attraction for her.

So when it was Isabeau who accompanied him to the last in Kagome Tower, he was glad. All his fellows were worthy warriors, but it was nothing to do with that. He had told himself that the extra wrath he fought Asmodeus with was because two of his fellows were gone. But it was not completely true, nor even primarily true. It was simply because the damned demon had threatened to take Isabeau as his bride.

They had returned to Sister Gabby afterwards, and decided to rest in the barracks before diving straight back to Tokyo. That night-

~~~That night~~~

Flynn rolled in his bed in the barracks. Although he could refresh himself with items and magic, there beat nothing that was a good night's sleep in the barracks.

'_So why in God's name was he still awake?!' _He ruffled his bangs in frustration. Walter's snores and Jonathan's heavy breathing told him that he was the only one awake. He tried to breathe in deeply, compose himself in bed but…

"_I looked upon a man who was not my father in his nakedness…" _

Isabeau had been flushed a deep red when she said it.

Flynn felt his own face grow hot. Why was he recalling such stupid details? '_Focus on the next mission_.' Yes… how… did he feel- no, no more god damn feelings. How did he _think_ about their mission? To kill the Black Samurai… boundaries were being crossed each day in his duties, but he felt hesitation in this one. Jonathan had a point, of course, there would be chaos if she returned… yet…

"_That's the idea! I want to see that prim, iron mask of hers slip. To see those cold cheeks flush pink…"_

Damn Walter! Why did he say that?! And why was he recalling that ancient, _useless_ memory _now?! _

'_He probably didn't even see Isabeau blush so beautifully today.' _

Flynn jolted up in his bed. '_Enough.'_

He tied up his hair with the ribbon given by another girl long ago. It was a ritual to help collect himself mentally.

When he reached the rooftops, and his heart leapt and sunk in quick, repetitive cycles. Or was it just thumping?

Isabeau was there, reading her manga, her legs dangling over the edge of the castle wall.

Should he leave now? Yet he found himself unable to move or speak. Isabeau was too focused on her manga to notice. "_Couldn't you be voyeurs in silence?" _She had said that night. Yet Flynn was quite sure that wasn't an actual request… was it? Because he wouldn't mind just looking at her…

He mentally shook his head. No, of course it wasn't. God he was getting _stupid_.

"Isabeau," he said evenly.

Isabeau jumped a little and looked up. Upon seeing Flynn, she visibly relaxed and laid down her manga. "Hello Flynn. It's a bit late, why are you not asleep?"

"I could say the same for you."

Isabeau looked to the moon. She was quiet for a few moments before answering, "I could not sleep. The new mission given to us weighs heavy on my mind." She looked over her shoulder, "Well, will you not join me? Why are you standing all the way over there? Come closer."

Flynn walked next to her.

"So, how's the manga?"

"It helps me alleviate my confusion. But it's only a distraction, I know."

That was not the answer Flynn was looking for. But then, he always was terrible with communicating to people his own age. He looked towards the horizon and a sigh escaped him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you like to move elsewhere?"

"What?… Why?"

"It's just… that was the direction of…" Isabeau trailed off.

"There is no need handle me with kid's gloves," Flynn said, feeling irritated, "Kiccigiorgi. Say it."

"I can only say that I had not meant to offend and spoke with your interest at heart, although I see that courtesy is not reciprocated."

Flynn opened and closed his mouth and then turned away. A chilly silence passed, and then, "… Sorry."

"If you wish to apologize, you should look at the person's eyes to say so."

Flynn had to smirk a little. His mother said the same thing. He looked straight into Isabeau's eyes, "Sorry."

Isabeau gave a small smile, "You are forgiven."

They smiled at each other. Then Isabeau said, "So, you didn't say why you were up here. The same weighs on your mind, I presume?"

"I… uh… yes."

"Flynn?"

"… Yes?"

"That was the first time I have heard you stumble over words and look away at the same time. … You are a terrible liar."

Flynn turned his head, amazed to hear— yes, _Isabeau_ was indeed _giggling._ His own mouth widened to a slightly abashed but broad grin.

"… So what really _is_ on your mind?"

Flynn felt his face grow hot as he stayed silent, he quickly looked away again.

"… Flynn?" Isabeau sounded concerned.

He could almost hear Issachar's exasperated groan from once upon a time. He looked towards Isabeau again, he opened his mouth. All he had to say was one word,_ you_, yet nothing was coming out. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. "_You," come on, just say it already! _

Isabeau's own face seemed to redden though, and Flynn blinked a few times. Was it his eyes? … No, she really was… She looked away, yet… even her ears were red.

Something about that made him say it, "You."

She looked at him, face still red, but he didn't look away, "You were on my mind. I could not sleep because of you."

It felt good to get it out of his chest. He almost forgot how good it felt to talk ever since he felt like he betrayed Issachar by becoming a samurai… And then Kiccigiorgi…

But…

Isabeau made no reply. Flynn felt something in him sink.

"Forgive me. Perhaps I should not have said that." Flynn turned to leave.

Isabeau's placed her hand atop of his. He stopped and they looked at each other for a moment before shyly looked away to the distance, but neither of them removed their hands.

"You did not need to say it. I could… tell. You have earnest eyes, Flynn."

_As do you. Straightforward, bright and strong. _But all he could say was "I see."

Isabeau turned slowly to him, and Flynn did the same.

Suddenly, he could see too. He could tell. She felt the same. Joy filled his chest. Such a beautiful joy he was afraid that if he looked at it too closely, it would surely dissipate yet… All he could do was help her turn around on the ledge to face him, step towards her, and lean in…

They pulled their lips apart and put their foreheads together. Flynn looked up to the face so close to his. Her eyes were closed, and she looked… happy; she had a small smile that graced her lips. Her closed eyelids made her red eye line clearer. Flynn was aware of the face artistry which luxuror women (and indeed, some men) partook in, something Jonathan had told him was commonly called 'make-up' among the luxurors, which purpose was to beautify themselves. Yet he was quite sure that was not Isabeau's purpose. He had seen her a few times, early in Tokyo when they awoke, she would draw the bold lines on her eyelids in a similar manner that he tied up his hair. It was a ritual to prepare their souls. They were samurai.

Flynn moved to kiss one of her eyes, and when he pulled away, naturally she opened them.

"What are you thinking about?" She said very quietly, almost in a whisper.

Flynn smiled. He had once wondered if he only felt attracted to Isabeau because she was the first luxuror near his age of the opposite gender which talked to him. Luxurors, an entire class of people which he was brought up to admire. Even if that were the case, however, the time spent with her only strengthened his admiration. She was no perfumed gentlelady, but there was a truer nobility to her. A sharp and sometimes lofty gaze, and an unswerving dedication to what she believed was right. If she had the weakness of indecision at times, it was only because she wanted to be sure of her belief before she gave that dedication.

"I love you."

Isabeau blushed. She kissed him briefly, "I love you too." His ears felt warm, and he was sure he had the biggest grin above and below the surface at that moment. They looked at each other for another moment and giggled.

Neither quite remembered the last time they _giggled_. But it was probably the last time of their life.


	3. Page 3

~~~Another Time~~~

He found her at the Obelisk Plaza.

"I'm going."

Isabeau gave him a torn, helpless expression. He reached out for her…

… But she stepped back once, twice… and then ran away.

"Isabeau!" Flynn was lost for a moment. _What? _Wait- where in the world was she going?! He took off after her.

* * *

She had ran into her own room in the barracks and slammed the door shut. Flynn caught up a moment later and knocked on the door. "Isabeau, open up!" What in the world was happening? He had hoped that she would come with him… or at least, tell him her decision. It would sway him, if she chose to go with Walter… but if the angels of God Himself told him to destroy Lilith, who was he to defy Him? Although… the truth of "order" below the surface made him nauseous, and if Lilith was right… that "order" in Mikado could easily be as corrupted… Walter was right to doubt. Yet these were _God's_ _angels_, surely, _surely_…

Flynn moved almost automatically when he saw the door creak open just a fraction. He pushed against it, and struggled to keep it open.

"Isabeau! What in the world are you doing? Let me in!"

"I… can't!"

"What are you _talking_ about?! I want to talk to you!" Flynn felt frustrated, "Why are you abandoning me when I am most confused?!"

She must have hesitated at that statement because suddenly Flynn found himself tumbling into her room. Isabeau tensed, clearly deliberating physically hauling him while his balance was lost, but that moment passed and she closed the door.

Flynn looked around. It was the first time she was at Isabeau's quarters. Her room was much smaller than the male barracks Flynn shared with Jonathan and Walter and she did not decorate it: the only thing which differentiated it was a shelf with some books on it. Yet… it smelled like Isabeau. This was her sanctuary.

"So, who are you going to go with?" Flynn said finally.

Isabeau shook her head, "I should ask that of _you_. I haven't decided."

He thought so. He sat on her bed and put his thumbs together, then, "Jonathan."

"But…!" But Isabeau did not say anything except that word.

"I know that Walter has a point… yet, these are _God's angels_ we are talking about. I can't imagine that they _won't_ give peace and stability to our kingdom."

"… What about Skins and Fujiwara? The way that Sister Gabby- I mean Gabriel- responded… I just know… they won't let anyone from Tokyo in. We can't abandon people who are just like us but in need of help. And Lilith… the so-called 'wisdom and knowledge' she speaks of… it's not completely… there are things that we should still _know_ before we make our decision!" Isabeau paused, and then added quietly "At least, _my _decision."

Flynn tried to ignore the sharp pain to his chest resulting from that additional comment "… So, then, Walter?"

Isabeau shook her head strongly, "I do not agree with his vision that the strong alone should be able to create what they wish. We are samurai, we protect the weak." She paused, and then looked suspiciously at Flynn, "Wait- if I chose to go with Walter to see Lilith, you would come with me?"

Flynn nodded.

"You would base such a decision not on your own moral values? I am disappointed in you!"

"Isabeau-" Flynn reached for her, but she slapped his hands away and took a a few steps back, a look of disbelief— or was it disgust?— on her face.

"What would you have me _do_ then?! I do not _know_ what is the right decision either, same as you. My convictions are not as strong as either Jonathan or Walter. But I have to _decide. _There can be nothing good that comes out of sitting on my hands!"

"It is better to do nothing than to do the wrong thing! To simply follow me- it's a lack of moral fibre! There is no conviction behind your actions!"

Flynn shook his head, "My conviction is that action is better than inaction in this case. Walter and Jonathan both will not wait and they need a comrade and a friend. And I… I need you there with me."

It was Isabeau's turn to shake her head, "If you must lend your sword to a cause, your heart and head needs to agree with it. To think otherwise as samurai, as someone with power… it's inconceivable."

_She's slipping away. _Flynn jumped up and closed their distance in two strides, then pulled her into a kiss. She pushed against him wildly, and one blow landed on his neck, which effectively parted their lips. "What are you…!?"

Flynn also took a moment to recover his breath "I don't what is right, but I do know— the only damn thing that's clear to me— is that I am in love with you. I want to be with you. With you, I feel like I am in the right. I know you see that I am speaking the truth in my heart. For me it is simple: Come with me or I will come with you."

Isabeau's looked as if she was in pain, "Flynn…"

"Damn it, Isabeau! Come _on!"_

"I can't-!"

"Why not?!"

"It's not _right_," Isabeau said, tears welling up.

She was falling farther and farther away, he could feel it, even though she was right there in his arms. He had to _reach _her, make her see it his way. He had to. He crushed his lips against her again, this time much more desperately. She pushed against him, but he held her wrists and pinned her against the wall. Inadvertently, she opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but Flynn took advantage of the opportunity to push his tongue in to taste her.

If he didn't convince her that he was right, that they needed to be together…

It was all Flynn could do to keep up clumsily as Isabeau moved her head from side to side. She struggled, making muffled noises of protest. When at last Flynn pulled away, they were panting heavily, saliva dribbling down their chins.

"Flynn… stop…" Isabeau managed out, still trying to regain her breath.

But he only moved to pin her body with his to the wall, freeing his hands to cup her cheeks for another kiss. Her hands vainly pushed and whacked on his arms and shoulders, her body writhed with the little room it had. As she did, she rubbed against his groin in such a way that made Flynn moan.

They froze. Flynn pulled away, and they looked at each other uncertainly. Then, slowly, and much more gently, Flynn gave a brief kiss on Isabeau's lips. And then her cheek, then slowly, lining kisses to her ear, then down along her jaw.

"Flynn…?" Her breathing hitched at the end of that word as Flynn started grinding against her. Slowly at first, almost subconsciously, but slowly moving faster… and faster…

"F-… nnngh… Flynn…" Isabeau felt goosebumps of pleasure spread over her body, and her core grew hot. One of Flynn's hands trailed down her body, his fingertips moving from her face, to her neck, resting a while at her breast as he cupped it with his palm, then down her stomach until they finally reached her thigh, which he then proceeded lightly drawing patterns she had no idea of. All she knew was that there was a trail of goosebumps left by those fingertips, and it was incredibly erotic how Flynn's breathing was getting hitched with effort next to her ear. It would be easy to push him away now, yet…

Isabeau wrapped her arms around his head, her hands clutching his hair, as if trying to anchor herself to the world. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her lower half moved of its own accord to complement Flynn's grinding. Flynn shuddered hearing Isabeau's panting, it was growing faster… and deeper… occasionally punctuated with some moans and gasps. There was an animalistic quality in how they were humping and grinding each other with increasing intensity.

Suddenly she pulled hard on his hair, white ribbon falling to the ground long forgotten, her entire body froze and she made a sound as if she were melting. Flynn crushed her lips with his, pinned her hands above her head and released the swell that has been building in him.

When he finally found himself regaining awareness, he pulled his lips away and sunk to the floor slowly, supporting Isabeau all the way. They were on the floor when Flynn truly saw Isabeau again. Her face was pink, her lips red and parted, she was sweaty, and saliva was messy around her mouth. Flynn felt himself growing hard almost immediately. He kissed her, and found Isabeau responding welcomingly. His hand moved to her back and head, gently placing her on the ground, shifting his body over hers…

Isabeau cupped his face and pushed him away, "We should stop. Otherwise I-" She looked away, "What I've done… it's shameful."

"No," Flynn said vehemently, his arousal deflating rapidly. If there was one thing he did not want Isabeau to feel it was shame. He placed one of her hands on his cheek, "That's not… I'd rather if you despise me. I am sorry you feel that way."

She looked at him and said nothing for a longest time, then, very quietly, "But… I… let you," a fresh blush was blossoming in her cheeks, and it was almost inaudible what she said next, "… and I think… even if time rewound itself… I would have done the same."

There was a logical part of Flynn's brain which wanted to say that time never rewound itself, and in the case that it did, unless the time-traveller held his memories (which was impossible, lest it creates a time paradox) all decisions made will be the same.

Naturally, that voice was much fainter compared to the feeling of joy and, undeniably, smug satisfaction that filled his being. With one hand still holding her hand to his cheek, he placed his other hand on hers and said, "I cannot be sorry that you feel the same as me. As a matter of fact, I feel… really… happy." He placed their foreheads together, "Isabeau, I do truly love you. If you would have me, I would marry you right now with all vows sworn."

Isabeau's eyes widen, "But… my father and mother… you haven't even met them…" She trailed off, seeing Flynn's unwavering expression, "Are you serious?"

"Of course I am," Flynn trailed off a bit embarrassed, "I promise we shall have a grand ceremony afterwards. But… you are aware that marriages are valid by vows sworn, yes?"

"Of course I am, but…"

"There is no one for me but you."

"Nor I you, yet…"

Flynn waited, when no reply was forthcoming he said, "Then there is nothing that should stop us… unless you are certain your family will be against me?"

"No, you are strong and kind. Father and mother would not object to you," Isabeau shook her head, "But it is too quick, and they should know of my choice before I commit myself in things such as this."

Flynn sighed frustratedly, but there was a resolve in Isabeau's last words that he knew he could not change, still there was a part of him that wished to try, "Isabeau-"

"I am quite serious about this."

They stared at each other, trying to convince the other of their own reasoning. In the end, it was Flynn who relented with a shake of his head. Isabeau kissed him on the forehead, and sat up. "I need time to think about this mission just given to us Flynn. I can't hear myself if you are here." She closed her eyes for a moment, "… You affect me as much as I affect you. But… our values differ on this. I must lend my blade and power only to what I believe to be right. As you should, as a samurai."

She opened her eyes, "And we are Samurai."

She kissed him on the forehead for a long moment, and Flynn knew it was a goodbye kiss. There was a sudden chill that filled him with that knowledge, something that was beyond the moment— as if some sort of premonition for their future.

No, now he was being silly.

"Very well," Flynn said, "I take leave of you for now. But I do hope that you will come with me."

* * *

She did not come with them. And he, ultimately, despite the doubt in his heart, was more convinced by Jonathan's stand for peace.

"I shall pray for your safety," she said before she left. They would not see each other for a while, of this Flynn could feel in his bones

'_And I yours.' _Flynn thought, and then tied his hair up again. He was a Samurai, and he had a duty to perform.


	4. Page 4

~~~Battle~~~

"We begin!"

"Isabeau, wait!"

But these words were barely out of his mouth when Isabeau summoned her demons and attacked with formidable speed. By reflex, Flynn drew his sword partially from his scabbard to block her attack, but the actual jarring sensation of their crossed blades was nothing compared to the shock he felt inside.

"Draw your blade, Flynn," Isabeau said before leaping backwards, dodging Merkabah's attack. Almost lazily, Merkabah swiped at Dakini to defend Flynn, "Chosen One of the Light, summon your demons!"

Flynn hesitated, his fingers poised at his gauntlet. No, this can't be real. This _can't be real._ What absurd world was he living in to be fighting Isabeau?

His eyes widen as Cherub moved to blast a shot at Isis. _What? _How did-?

"Master, I have summoned your demons for you. Please be careful!" Said a familiar electronic voice.

"Burroughs!" Flynn's cry was half-scolding.

But it was too late, his demons were getting hurt at his hesitation. Flynn grit his teeth and input the command in his gauntlet for Feng Huang to cast Tetrakarn. Perhaps if he could defeat Isabeau's demons and convince her once her offences were taken away from her…

* * *

"Flynn, what you're doing… it's an act of _genocide _upon the people of Tokyo!" Isabeau said, her tone one of urgency among many things, "Do you truly believe that such an act will be forgiven?"

Flynn shook his head, "Perhaps not, but it must be this way! Isabeau, listen to me-"

"It must _be_ this way?!" Isabeau interrupted, shaking her head in disbelief and disgust, "Where is your _conviction? _Do not shift the responsibility of your actions to anyone else!"

Flynn wavered, opening himself to an attack from Isabeau. He glanced almost unbelievingly at the blood and pain from the slice at his sword arm.

"I already told you, Flynn. Do _not _treat me with kid gloves. This is a bout between samurai. This is for what I believe in."

"_ISABEAU!_" Flynn roared angrily, and he thought he saw a moment of hesitation in Isabeau. He moved quickly, knocking her down on the floor with a swift punch to her stomach. Her stifled scream pained him, but there was no pause in his steps as he refocused his magic to dispatching the rest of Isabeau's demons, protecting himself from Isabeau's attacks by distance and Tetrakarn.

* * *

At last, it was Isabeau alone.

A despair had gripped Flynn. It was not unfamiliar. He had, after all, been gripped by the same sense of helplessness against Isabeau before. That is, when Isabeau had decided on something which she believed was right. Her unswerving commitment and dedication.

It was all in the strength in her eyes.

As always, however, he could only try. He extended his hand to her. '_Please, Isabeau, please…' _he felt tears of sadness, desperation, and frustration welling in him as he willed his thoughts to reach her, '_Please, just this _once_, listen to me.'_

He almost laughed when Isabeau slapped his hand away. The sort of laugh that a man gives when his pain suddenly dies off and euphoria surges through him, as his body prepares him for unavoidable, inexorable death. There was going to be no peace to be made. Even if he incapacitated her, when she awoke, she would only continue her quest.

"… You… I will not let a Samurai's who has such wavering resolve best me!" Isabeau cried, unsteadily charging at him.

"Why not… just once…" Flynn managed out, as he parried Isabeau's sword to the side, "Just _once_…"

Before Isabeau could renew an attack, Merkabah grabbed the woman and threw her bodily across the room. There was a sickening crunch as she landed. Suddenly Flynn's eyes widen, and it was as if he was suddenly awake from a bad nightmare.

_What was he doing?!_ What Isabeau said a while ago reverberated in his brain _"Do not shift the responsibility for your actions to anyone else!" _At once, he recalled his demons back to his gauntlet. He barely managed two steps towards her before Isabeau got up weakly.

_God,_ he thought in horror. He suddenly saw her truly, as he did that night that felt like years ago.

Her face, arms, and legs were swelling and bruising an angry red, scrapes, cuts and bullet wounds were too numerous to count, all leaking blood. There were tears in her eyes, and Flynn could barely stand the gaze she was giving him.

It was… tender, and there was a small smile that graced her lips. The same expression he had been privy to from time to time, through a face _he _had allowed to be marred and bruised thus. He could not move for the life of him, guilt paralyzing his body and mind.

"As I thought, you are a hard foe. I thought that I had grown as well. But it seems that in this too you have surpassed me. I wished I could have remained at your side forever…"

_Move! _He had to move! To reassure her, to tell her that he was the same as the time they were at the Isabeau's room. He would choose her, and they could find another way, they _could_, he knew… Why, for fuck's sake, did he not think of that before?! But he had to move! He had to tell her…!

Tears fell from her eyes, leaving visible trails along her bloodied face. Isabeau watched the frozen man. He had chosen his path, all that remained was for one of them to fall, yet there was still something that held him from the finishing blow. Her. Isabeau smiled as she forced her body to move, she stumbled and barely regained her footing. "I will not… let your hands… be stained… m-my last choice… will be… my own!"

—

* * *

It was as if he died with her.

He dropped to his knees unceremoniously, his eyes wide, but his mind barely registering the blood spurting from her neck. A red fountain that rose and fell, but was quickly simply falling as her heart ceased to beat.

It couldn't be. _No, it couldn't be_. He was barely aware of how difficult it was becoming to _breathe_. Ragged gasps and pants escaped him without his notice.

After what seemed like an eternity, his body started to gingerly crawl towards… the body.

"Ah…" He shuddered as his hand landed in the pool of blood. Wet, warm. That was all his mind registered. After another long pause, he continued crawling towards _the body_.

"Ahhhh…" he cradled the head of _the body _to his chest, "Ah…um… oh… " Breathing was getting _hard, _breath went through his throat without cooperation from his brain, making a strange _huk_ sound as some gasps of air went through.

_Huk… huk… huk…_

_The body_ was getting colder in his arms. He subconsciously started rubbing her arms, clutching her head and body closer to him.

_Huk… huk… huk…_

Something wet and warm trailing down his face liberally from his eyes. His vision was blurry. But there was nothing alive in his brain that asked even _why_.

Something was pulling his arms away from _the body_, as if to pull him back to his feet. He jerked his hands, but the hands they pulled. Hands of God's Chariot, God's ultimate messenger, somewhere in his brain said quietly. But he pulled away, tried to anyway, as hard as he could while _the body _was still in his arms and his knees that refused to move. A low whine came out of him at first, but when the hands did not release him, the whine grew louder and sharper, louder and sharper until it was a full-blown scream. He only stopped when the hands finally released him.

"We must never forget this woman," The God's Chariot said.

The man pressed the cheek of _the body_ against his. _The body's _cheeks were cool. He shuddered, as a word popped in his mind: _lifeless_. What woman? Did The God's Chariot mean _HER? _But she wasn't here.

Tears fell. A small, childlike voice echoed in him, _she wasn't anywhere._

_Isabeau wasn't anywhere… not anymore._

The man did not remember when his mind and consciousness came back to him.

—

* * *

It came in bits and pieces, his mind. He still had to move, he still had to fight. He became aware of his surroundings again, that was first. He could hear Merkabah, Burroughs, and his demon allies, that returned relatively quickly too.

But there was something missing in him. Hesitation being an example. Burrough's warnings about detecting "strong demons ahead" were barely heard. He would heal his demons and move onwards, like a machine. A cog in the will of God.

There was something else he couldn't place a finger on all the way up to the moment Merkabah asked him if he understood that he was to be swallowed by the Great Abbadon.

But he would never find out what it was.

All he knew, with a wry smirk on his face, was that memories _did _flash by at the end of one's life. Who had told him that? Was it Grandmother? Issachar? His parents…?

He will not remember.

—

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

..._Or WILL HE?! _(evil laughs). I highly recommend Timpeni's story over at Archive of Our Own, named _Cycles_. I skimmed some of it (for fear of massive spoilers) and but the insanity which Flynn felt in that story about the cycles was delicious to read.

(On a subject of recommendation, may I also point out another story by the same author called _Support_ at the same site mentioned above. It is the only other Flynn/Isabeau story I found…? Where is the love for this pairing?!)

Also, I cannot deny that the last scene I wrote was somewhat inspired by the image from pixiv I've made as the avatar-image-thumbnail thing for this story. (I found the image on tumblr.) Except in my mind there's a little bit more blood… or I guess a lot more. For goodness's sake, she slit her own throat. We are all old enough to know about the mess blood sprouting out of a jugular could make, yes?

Well, anyway, this was a colossal supposed one-shot. (At least it seems that way to me, the one typing.)

All I wanted was some PWP Flynn/Isabeau lemon. Seriously, that was the intention. Clearly I have derailed. Please someone write one for me,as I clearly fail with smut-writing.

Please leave a review. ^_^ And I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I sort-of diarrhea-ed it out.


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